Your father (your parents were friends of my parents) was one of my earliest career inspirations — as a child I totally looked forward to the evenings they came to dinner. And your experience producing Mmmm reminds me of mine working with friends Kirsten Grimstad and Susan Rennie on The New Woman’s Survival Sourcebook — setting the text in their loft on an IBM Selectric, pasting up the spreads with a waxer in the triple-digit humid New York days hoping it all wouldn’t just slide off the boards!
Thanks so much for this post, Ruth — it brought a flood of memories and empathy.
My first kitchen job (1979) was at the Soho Charcuterie. What an amazing experience. The food was just outstanding and the folks I worked with were equally outstanding. A few had their specialties, such as the lady that only made the quiche, the gentleman that only made the pates. So long ago, I can't remember the names. I was the gofer. From picking up the mozzarella from Joe's Dairy down the street, picking up the fresh cream cheese from the brothers on Houston (one made cream cheese, one made bagels), from picking out the rabbits, ducks and chickens to be processed from place in the east village. And so much more. What an experience!! Who can ever forget the Chocolate Globs!!
Soho C first came on our radarscreen in New York Mag - which we upstaters (Rochester) faithfully read, then clipped and saved articles for planning our occasional forays to the city. Also, ten years ago, I exchanged emails with architect who designed SC space.
I wish all defunct restaurants had their menus catalogued in a centralized place. One of my favorite things about visiting generation-spanning NYC establishments (i.e., Gallaghers) is viewing the old menus on the walls.
You've made me cry. What an incredible experience out in the forest, and how very sad that Scruff made it through scary unknown nature and critters and then was taken by civilization. Beautiful writing, as always.
I cooked at Pilchuck. Lived in Buster’s treehouse. Danced in the meadow in the moonlight with the bears. Annie Hauberg was the patron’s name and she was a legend.
I was given a copy of Mmmm when it came out. I have carried it hither and yon and to this day it has some of my fave recipes. You taught me how to simmer a long, slow, delicious spaghetti sauce. It inspired our family carbonara. The banana bread is just plain delish. Thanks!
In the dining car I couldn't figure out who was in the booth drinking coffee. I mean, the tracks with a crossing gate on each side and the steam pipe in the front cooking eggs all make perfect sense organizationally - but who is this mysterious figure facing us? Why are his “arms” so much thicker than the others? This was going to haunt me. I felt like the Glass Man in Amélie unable to capture the one attendant of "Luncheon of the Boating Party" by Renoir. Then it dawned on me, this must be the crossing sign (the old style with two planks in an “X” shape). I would not have slept.
I bought a copy of 'M-M-M-M....' from somewhere in upstate NY, and to this day, it is STILL my all-time favorite cookbook. It's held together w/rubber bands, pages stained sometimes almost beyond legibility, but that cookbook was such a gift to someone starting out learning to cook; I still use it to this day, and have never found a better (or easier) banana bread...it was a novel about a place in time, as well as a cookbook, and is still one of my most treasured books.
“(I should probably note that the book was definitely not a bestseller!)”
I bought it when it came out and still have it, stained, torn and taped together.
Thanks for still writing for us.
Your father was a book designer?
I never knew that about you!
PS: The tone of that article is...really patronizing, isn't it?
Your father (your parents were friends of my parents) was one of my earliest career inspirations — as a child I totally looked forward to the evenings they came to dinner. And your experience producing Mmmm reminds me of mine working with friends Kirsten Grimstad and Susan Rennie on The New Woman’s Survival Sourcebook — setting the text in their loft on an IBM Selectric, pasting up the spreads with a waxer in the triple-digit humid New York days hoping it all wouldn’t just slide off the boards!
Thanks so much for this post, Ruth — it brought a flood of memories and empathy.
My first kitchen job (1979) was at the Soho Charcuterie. What an amazing experience. The food was just outstanding and the folks I worked with were equally outstanding. A few had their specialties, such as the lady that only made the quiche, the gentleman that only made the pates. So long ago, I can't remember the names. I was the gofer. From picking up the mozzarella from Joe's Dairy down the street, picking up the fresh cream cheese from the brothers on Houston (one made cream cheese, one made bagels), from picking out the rabbits, ducks and chickens to be processed from place in the east village. And so much more. What an experience!! Who can ever forget the Chocolate Globs!!
I have the Soho cookbook; do you? If not, and you want me to share some of its content, let me know.
I have had it for many, many years. Still use it for use and inspiration to this day.
Soho C first came on our radarscreen in New York Mag - which we upstaters (Rochester) faithfully read, then clipped and saved articles for planning our occasional forays to the city. Also, ten years ago, I exchanged emails with architect who designed SC space.
I wish all defunct restaurants had their menus catalogued in a centralized place. One of my favorite things about visiting generation-spanning NYC establishments (i.e., Gallaghers) is viewing the old menus on the walls.
Fascinating story Fascinating life
You've made me cry. What an incredible experience out in the forest, and how very sad that Scruff made it through scary unknown nature and critters and then was taken by civilization. Beautiful writing, as always.
Un coup de foudre! I think this is one of the best things you have ever written. (And I think I’ve read almost everything.)
I cooked at Pilchuck. Lived in Buster’s treehouse. Danced in the meadow in the moonlight with the bears. Annie Hauberg was the patron’s name and she was a legend.
I’m traveling and sitting here in the airport. I will read the whole article when I get home. A good slow reading.
So curious: Did you leave New York after that trip west?
We did! We moved to Berkeley and were very happy there.
I was given a copy of Mmmm when it came out. I have carried it hither and yon and to this day it has some of my fave recipes. You taught me how to simmer a long, slow, delicious spaghetti sauce. It inspired our family carbonara. The banana bread is just plain delish. Thanks!
Just loved reading your notes Ruth... and Thank you so much for your recipe...Yum xx. Ps. I will upgrade when able to do so.
Best, From Gail.....
That story, so masterfully spun, will linger in memory
In the dining car I couldn't figure out who was in the booth drinking coffee. I mean, the tracks with a crossing gate on each side and the steam pipe in the front cooking eggs all make perfect sense organizationally - but who is this mysterious figure facing us? Why are his “arms” so much thicker than the others? This was going to haunt me. I felt like the Glass Man in Amélie unable to capture the one attendant of "Luncheon of the Boating Party" by Renoir. Then it dawned on me, this must be the crossing sign (the old style with two planks in an “X” shape). I would not have slept.
I bought a copy of 'M-M-M-M....' from somewhere in upstate NY, and to this day, it is STILL my all-time favorite cookbook. It's held together w/rubber bands, pages stained sometimes almost beyond legibility, but that cookbook was such a gift to someone starting out learning to cook; I still use it to this day, and have never found a better (or easier) banana bread...it was a novel about a place in time, as well as a cookbook, and is still one of my most treasured books.